First Day, First Show: From Ravanaprabhu to L2: Empuraan

From fan frenzy and black tickets in 2001 to online bookings and record-breaking pre-sales in 2025, here’s a nostalgic ride through Kerala’s movie culture. Published in Long. Sweet. Valuable. in Medium

MOVIES & TV

4/14/20253 min read

L2: Empuraan (2025), the much-anticipated sequel to the blockbuster Lucifer (2019), had been generating significant buzz long before its release. As someone who genuinely enjoys Mohanlal’s films and has watched many over the years, I couldn’t resist the chance to catch the first day, first show — famously known as the fan’s show — at 6 AM! So on 27th March, my brother and I walked into Kairali Theatre in Trivandrum, greeted by the beats of traditional drums and a pathway lined with festoon flags — both arranged by the local Mohanlal fan associations. The excitement was palpable!

The last time I experienced a first day, first show was for Ravanaprabhu back in 2001. I was just 12 years old then. That period marked a transformation in Malayalam cinema, driven largely by the massive box office appeal of Mohanlal in roles that leaned heavily into the ‘mass hero’ persona — films that were already popular in Tamil Nadu and Andhra Pradesh but had only started to influence Malayalam cinema. Owing to a relatively small market of just over 3 crore Malayalam speakers, mainly in Kerala and the Gulf diaspora, the success of a film traditionally relied on a strong script rather than pure star power. Despite Mohanlal and Mammootty’s reigning stardom, content was king.

However, a new era had begun, with Mohanlal embracing more flamboyant, larger-than-life characters. In fact, that period is often referenced by many movie critics as the dark phase of Malayalam cinema. Two types of films were being churned out during that time — ‘mass masala machismo’ hero movies and slapstick comedies. Aaram Thampuran was one such film that saw huge success, although my brother and I missed it in theatres. Our admiration for Mohanlal had been growing through movies we caught on TV or the occasional theatre visit — films like Thenmavin Kombathu, Chandralekha, and Usthad. Then came Narasimham in 2000, and once again, we missed the theatre experience. That film became a cultural phenomenon, with the punchline “Nee Poo Mone Dinesha” echoing everywhere — from conversations to auto-rickshaw mudguards. When we learned that Narasimham’s scriptwriter was turning director for Ravanaprabhu, we decided this time we would not miss it.

Watching a superstar’s film on its opening day in India is more than just a movie — it’s an event. It’s about the energy: the whistles, cheers, confetti, and graffiti. It’s a genre of its own.

Back then, we didn’t have social media or even easy internet access. Our sole source of entertainment updates was Friday Review, the weekly supplement with The Hindu. A few weeks before the release, a still from Ravanaprabhu — Mohanlal mid-air, punching Siddique in a police uniform — sealed our excitement. The release may have coincided with our Onam school holidays. I don’t recall exactly, but we decided to watch it on day one.

On release day, we caught a bus from our village to Changanacherry, 14 km away. From the bus stand, we walked toward Abhinaya theatre, chatting about what the movie might offer. Along the way, we bumped into my brother’s friend, who warned us of the massive crowd already building up at the gate. That’s when it hit us: first day of a superstar’s movie wasn’t going to be a casual affair. We rushed to the theatre and were stunned by the scene — huge crowds, police trying to manage the chaos, giant cutouts of Mohanlal, glittering decorations, and a “House Full” sign at the ticket counter.

Strangely, we weren’t disappointed. We were more amazed at the atmosphere. Luckily, we managed to get “black tickets” at a slightly inflated price, which meant we’d have to skip snacks — but it was worth it! The experience inside was unforgettable: thunderous applause for Mohanlal’s entry, cheers for each punchline, and roaring laughter for the jokes — it elevated the entire experience.

Now, 23 years later, my brother and I walked into a Mohanlal movie’s first show again. We weren’t school kids anymore. He was on vacation from his job in the UK, and watching L2: Empuraan together was something we had decided on as soon as his travel dates were fixed.

This time, things were different. Most tickets were booked online, and there were no black tickets floating around. In fact, L2: Empuraan broke records on BookMyShow for the highest-ever pre-sales for an Indian movie.

And the film itself? Technically impressive, visually stunning, and reflective of its status as the most expensive Malayalam film ever made. As I write this, L2: Empuraan has already shattered several box office records to become the highest-grossing Malayalam film — a title Mohanlal seems to reclaim every few years.

Yet, something was missing — the electric, collective high we felt during Ravanaprabhu. Of course, the two films are vastly different. Ravanaprabhu was designed to be a mass entertainer filled with whistle-worthy moments. What remains constant, though, is Mohanlal’s enduring star power, still capable of filling theatres and winning hearts.